


What a Bright Time

by thepinupchemist



Series: Hideaway 'Verse [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Cas, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Bottom Cas, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Omega Dean, Parent Castiel, Parent Dean, Parent Dean Winchester, Riding, Self-Lubrication, Smut, Top Cas, Top Castiel, Top Dean, Topping from the Bottom, commission, parent destiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-06 07:04:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5407487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepinupchemist/pseuds/thepinupchemist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a trip to Denver with the pups for the annual Parade of Lights, Castiel goes into rut.</p><p>Takes place between IYH & Hacksaw of Puberty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What a Bright Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [avidffreader](https://archiveofourown.org/users/avidffreader/gifts).



**What a Bright Time**

**Soundtrack: Jingle Bell Rock**

When it comes to the pups, according to Dean, Castiel is a sucker, a grade-A softie. Castiel supposes that this is probably true, being that he is the reason that they were roped into attending the Colorado Renaissance Festival three times during the summer, and how they have now been roped into spending the night at a hotel in Denver to more conveniently attend the annual Parade of Lights.

Castiel has Ben on his shoulders while Dean carries Jack, but they arrived early in order to snag a prime seat to set up Mary’s Disney Princess lawn chair. She sits there in front of them now, a paper cup of cocoa cradled between her purple mittens. On one side of them Sam and Amelia take a selfie in their winter regalia, while on the other side Jo and Charlie are arguing over what appears to be a dragon-themed phone application.

“Look Daddy, they’re wearing Christmas lights!” From his place on Dean’s shoulders, Jack points to a high school marching band decked out in strings of lights and strands of tinsel.

Dean grins up at his son and jokes, “I think you’d look pretty nice in some lights. What if we tied you up for Christmas instead of a tree?”

“I’d make a good tree,” Jack says, “I have lots of places to put ornaments.”

“Do you?” asks Dean, “I suppose we could stick one on your cute nose.”

“And one ornament for each of your fingers,” contributed Castiel, “You’re right. You’d make an excellent tree.”

Jack’s toothy grin makes all of the effort worth it: the pain of finding a hotel in downtown Denver that had rooms available last minute, the three hour road trip down from the mountains and the subsequent bout of traffic born of a nightmare combination of construction and rush hour that they ran into the moment that they entered civilization, the hellish parking nightmare that was Denver, the top-volume argument his children had about Pokémon in the lobby of their hotel while he and Dean tried to check in – the smiles wide as the day was long lightened the load of stress that settled over Castiel’s shoulders the moment that Ben said his classmate Caitlin would be going to the Parade of Lights in Denver and why couldn’t they, too?

Castiel tosses a content smile at his mate and Dean threw one back. At the happiness radiating off of his omega, warmth spreads through Castiel’s limbs, all down through his veins and to the ends of each of his digits. A family isn’t an easy thing to manage, but moments such as these, moments when the pieces all seem to fall together, make all the heartache and frustration of day to day living worth it.

He can’t help but recall his lonely life before Dean quite literally stumbled into it. Castiel _wanted_ to be alone then. He wanted the world to forget him and he wanted to forget himself. Sometimes, he now thinks, the universe has better plans in store for you than you have for yourself. Dean is one such plan, and not a day passes that Castiel isn’t grateful his plans to remain a lone hermit in the Rocky Mountains was foiled.

They all drink cocoa and suck on peppermint candy canes as they watch the parade. Of all of Castiel’s children, Jack by far is the most enthusiastic about each of the parade’s attractions, likely because he is five and at that age there is an element of wonder that has yet to be tarnished by reality.

If reality hadn’t been so unkind to Dean from the start, Castiel imagines he might have been a lot like Jack. As it is Dean is full of light and energy, but there’s an edge to it, a cautiousness that doesn’t go away no matter how many years of safety at home wear on. Dean truly earned this, earned this night watching a Christmas parade with his three pups.

After Jack finishes his cocoa, he starts to fade, and Dean transfers him from his shoulders to his arms, where he falls into a sound sleep with his chubby cheek pressed up against his omega father’s leather jacket – a jacket that Castiel purchased mere days into his acquaintance with Dean, from the mountain-themed gift shop owned by Bobby Singer.

Dean starts laughing when a group of Christmas clowns marches down the street and Sam shrinks back from the sidewalk and behind the thickened crowd.

“Why is uncle Sam afraid?” asks Ben.

“Sometimes people are afraid of things for no reason,” Castiel explains, “Uncle Sam is afraid of clowns and no one really knows why.”

“They are _creepy_ ,” Sam shouts from behind an alpha-alpha couple, both of whom are wearing plush reindeer antlers on their heads and red light up noses.

Castiel wishes that they could leave before the end of the parade to save on time and the stress that it will cause Dean to be in such a thick crowd, but Mary and Ben insist upon staying until the very last float has passed and no one else is due to crest the hill. They’re grumpy by that time, as pups often are when they’re tired out.

Under Castiel’s scarf, he begins to sweat.

“Hey, Cas?”

“Mm.”

“You okay?” asks Dean. He shifts Jack’s position against his coat and Jack snuffles in his sleep, fat fist clenched around the scarf that Castiel knitted for Dean. Dean doesn’t look fantastic, either. He doesn’t do well in crowds – at least not since Castiel has known him. Dean spins tales of a time before they knew one another, a time when Dean could attend concerts alone and walk out just as happily as he walked on, if not a little drunker.

“I used to be able to do lots of things,” Dean says sometimes. He says it more often than Castiel wishes that he would.

And Castiel will always reply, “It’s okay to need help doing things. Never be ashamed of that.”

But John Winchester left his mark on Dean, and Cas doubts that the mark will ever wholly disappear. John Winchester – is or was, Castiel does not know whether the man still lives and frankly could not care less – is a man that relies on no one. Needs no one, or thinks he needs no one, and replaces the company of humanity with the company of a stiff drink.

Castiel drapes his free arm around Dean’s shoulders and draws him in close for a hug. Ben makes a tired noise of disgust when Cas presses his lips to the center of Dean’s forehead, but his mate’s comfort is more important than his son’s sass. The intense crush of people raises the temperature several degrees –

Or so Castiel believes, until he realizes there aren’t nearly as many people as he thought surrounding them. No, the crowd has given Castiel and Dean a wide berth, and Sam is frantically motioning at them from the edge of the bubble. The sweat on the back of Castiel’s neck begins to trickle and he realizes several beats too late that it isn’t hot outside but that he’s going into rut and the mate beside him smells like divinity embodied.

“Shit,” he intones, abruptly overwhelmed by the public area that they are in and its lack of privacy. They didn’t think to get two hotel rooms – the room was meant to be for Dean and Cas plus their children, but the children couldn’t be around for their alpha father’s rut. Castiel guides their family out of the middle of the walkway and to the side of a Starbucks that inside is closing up for the night.

“We can take the pups,” Amelia says immediately.

“Or we can,” Jo pipes up, “You guys need to get out of here, stat.”

Dean peels Jack off of him and passes him to Sam. Jack rubs his eyes with his grubby fists and asks, “Daddy, what’s happening?”

“Your dads have an emergency, so you’re going to have a party with your aunts and uncles,” Dean says. He combs Jack’s light brown hair back from his forehead with his fingers and plants a kiss on the top of his head. Dean goes on, “Can you promise to be good for me?”

“But we were gonna watch Rudolph,” Jack says. Tears well up in his eyes, which is Castiel’s cue to step in before Jack goes from upset to full-blown fireworks-tantrum.

“Jack,” he says, with a careful thread of Alpha Voice, “Your uncle Sam can put Rudolph on for you. He’d be more than happy to watch it with you. Will you be good for your dads and watch Rudolph with Uncle Sam and Aunt Amelia?”

Jack sniffles but nods. He clings to Sam, wrapping short arms around Sam’s neck and looking impossibly small in the arms of such a large alpha. Sometimes it is easy to forget that Castiel’s pups are still…well, _pups_ , but in this moment, he remembers. He thinks back to the calendar and the careful countdown to his rut. It’s early. Too early. Could it have been triggered by the sheer amount of happiness that he feels in the company of his family?

It sounds possible, of  course. Potential mates and people that smell good trigger ruts, and when Castiel practiced in Denver he did once have an alpha arrive in the ER in a rut reportedly triggered by the smell of a hamburger. Why shouldn’t Castiel’s domestic bliss send him reeling?

Dean appears at Castiel’s side and slips his arms through his. He says, “Come on. We need to get you back to the hotel.”

Castiel grins. The hotel. Yes, that sounds like an excellent idea. Then he can throw his mate down on the mattress, pull open his legs and lick his slick straight from the source. The aroma of his own arousal pierced the air and surrounded him like a cloud. Beside him, Dean chuckles. He uses his hand to smooth back Castiel’s hair and pecks a kiss to his cheek. He says, “Calm down, little alpha. The entire state of Colorado doesn’t need to know how horny you are.”

“No. Just you,” Castiel says. He isn’t trying to be snide, but he sounds snide even to his ears.

“All right, cowboy,” Dean says with a pat to Cas’ back, “Let’s get you back.”

The walk back to the hotel seems to take a century, even though Castiel knows that the entire population of Denver is giving them a wide, wide berth. They reach the hotel and Dean gives the front desk staff an apologetic smile as he guides Castiel to the elevators with a firm hand.

The moment that the elevator doors close, Castiel pounces on his mate. He presses Dean into the back right-hand corner and noses at his neck, right at the scar of their mating bite. A soft whimper escapes Dean’s mouth, and Castiel swallows it with his own mouth, bringing Dean in for an intense, sensual kiss. Castiel’s cock is hard in his jeans. He rolls his hips against Dean.

A _ding_ sounds, and Dean hauls Castiel off of him. He wheels Cas around and says, “Come on. We can do more of that in a second. Let’s just get to the hotel room.”

“But I’d like to do it now.”

“That’s nice, Cas. I’m not letting you pound me into the wall of the elevator.”

“But that sounds like such fun.”

“Not when anybody could see us, it doesn’t,” Dean replies. He fumbles with the inside of his coat, pushing his scarf out of the way. Cas reaches out and strokes his fingers over the scarf, over the careful knots of navy and gold.

Cas murmurs, “I love when you wear things I made.”

“Yeah, yeah, got your alpha scent all over me, I got it,” Dean says, “You can posture in the hotel room. Fuck’s sake.” He manages to pull the key card out from the inside pocket of the leather jacket and the moment it opens the door to the room, they tumble in. Castiel starts tugging at his clothing immediately. He throws his peacoat onto the floor and yanks at his shirt with clumsy hands. Nothing works like he wants it to. That’s always how it works during his rut. He wishes he knew how to get used to that sensation, but he’s a man in his forties and he still doesn’t have a hold on himself during this time.

“Cas, Cas,” Dean says, putting a hand against Castiel’s chest, “Slow down. We need to make sure we have everything we need. We can always get water out of the tap, but you’re gonna need more calories than hot chocolate, man.”

“We brought snacks for the pups,” Castiel says, nosing at Dean’s neck, “and we can always call room service.” Castiel presses small kisses to the skin of Dean’s throat, one by one, lower and lower, except that Dean is still wearing his coat and all his clothes. He’s wearing far too much, come to think of it. A low growl rumbles in Castiel’s chest at the sight of his mate not being _naked already._

“Calm down,” Dean murmurs. He pushes his lips against the center of Castiel’s forehead and steps back to unzip the leather jacket.

Castiel should be embarrassed how calm Dean seems in comparison to himself. Castiel sees the pink flush of blood creep down his chest, sees the press of his cock against his jeans and the gleam of sweat already on his skin. He doesn’t like to lose control. He never has. But Dean always has the ability to wriggle under Castiel’s skin and make him hot all over and confused.

Whereas Dean should be tearing off his own clothes at the smell of his alpha’s rut, he peels off each piece and neatly folds every one before stacking them on the television stand across from the beds. Beds, plural. The pups were supposed to be with them. Castiel should also be annoyed that his rut interrupted a near perfect family outing, but can’t find it in him. Instead, he wants Dean on the bed, wants Dean tangled with him, wants Dean inside –

They haven’t done _that_ in a while. Castiel’s cock perks up with the thought.

“Dean,” Castiel says.

“Yes?”

“I want you to fuck me.”

Dean’s brows jerk up in surprise. Even after ten years together, the idea that Castiel might like a sexual act other being balls-deep in his mate’s ass still manages to catch Dean off-guard. Much of the damage that Alastair’s hellhole did to Dean has been undone – not erased, but soothed. Trained into a manageable place. This is how it emerges most days: surprise at being desired for anything other than a hole to fuck into.

“We don’t have any synthetic slick,” Dean says.

“Use your own,” Cas suggests, a salacious smile sliding into place on his lips, “I can smell it. I know you’re wet for me.”

A sweet pink blush spreads over Dean’s face. He kicks his boots aside and shucks his jeans off twice as quickly as the other layers had gone, and this time, he doesn’t bother to fold them and set them aside. No, he yanks the layers off, and Castiel divests himself of his remaining things, and soon they’re both naked, staring at one another with a foot of space between them. Castiel’s breath heaves. His brain chants at him, instinct pounding through his veins and yelling _MATE MATE MATE MATEMATEMATE._

In a whip-quick movement, Dean leaps forward. He shoves Castiel back onto the hotel bed and covers his mouth in a searing kiss. Castiel grunts and loops his arms around Dean’s scarred, freckled back. He pulls them close together and thrusts his hips up, cock grinding against Dean’s warm, damp skin. The aroma of Dean’s slick curls in the air, soaks the room with the sweet, heady scent of omega arousal and _mate_. An unmatched streak of pride surges through Castiel every time his omega lets off a happy, contented scent.

Castiel would never take credit for all of Dean’s hard-earned happiness, of course. Dean fought for his happiness, tooth and nail. To think on the hardship that preceded Mary’s birth and permeated the months  and years afterward makes Castiel angry to this day – but he can’t think on that now, not with his sweet mate naked and rubbing up against his lap like a happy cat.

“I love you,” Castiel tells him, voice low and reverent.

A shiver rolls through Dean’s body where he sits perched on top of Cas. A lazy smile spreads over his face, and he leans down to pull Cas’ already kiss-swollen lips into another. His work-rough palm cups the side of Castiel’s face, thumb stroking the skin just beneath Cas’ eye. He pulls back from the kiss with a nip to Castiel’s lower lip and says, “Love you too, big dumb sap.”

They kiss and grope, but the rut urges Castiel for more. He gasps away from their embrace and says, “Dean, I need – I need it –”

“Shh,” Dean says, “I got you. Spread open for me, okay? Here’s what I’m thinking. I’m thinking I’ll open you up real slow, get you all slick and ready for me, and then I’m going to fuck you into next week. But that’s not all I’ve got planned. You wanna hear the rest?”

Cas whimpered.

“You’re not going to come while I’m inside you. You’re going to keep your knot down like a good little alpha, and after I come, I’m going to climb on top of you. I’m going to slide down real slow, and I’m gonna ride you until you’re begging me to come. How does that sound?” asks Dean. His tongue darts out, licks along the shell of Castiel’s ear.

Castiel almost cries at Dean’s intentions. He gives a frantic nod, squeezing his eyes closed, but Dean cards fingers through Castiel’s hair and says, “I need to hear you say yes, little alpha.”

“Yes,” Cas says, “ _Yes_. That sounds incredible. I need you.”

“Good,” Dean answers, with a firm kiss to Castiel’s mouth. He kisses him a second time, then moves to the blade of Castiel’s jaw – down his neck, over his collarbone, until he latches his lips over a sensitive nipple and scrapes his teeth over the pink skin. Castiel mewls under the attention and tries his best to keep still. Alpha instinct has him wanting to flip Dean onto his back and seize control over the encounter, but low in his belly and his head he knows he wants Dean moving inside him, every piece of Dean’s attention wholly on him.

Dean moves his lips over Castiel’s stomach, just a little softer now in age than it was when they met. He kisses the place where his pelvic bones press up against his skin. Dean does not lower his lips to Cas’ aching cock, but Castiel feels his hot breath, feels him hovering there and taking in the sight of alpha cock engorged by rut.

Through heavy-lidded eyes, Castiel watches Dean brace his hands on Castiel’s legs and spread them open. Then, Dean catches his lower lip between his teeth and reaches behind himself, pressing his fingers inside. Castiel tosses his head against the pillows as he watches Dean finger himself and groans.

Dean’s fingers, now soaked with slick, brush over the entrance to Castiel’s body. Castiel wants to wriggle into the touch, but he makes himself lie still. Hand steady, Dean presses a single finger into Cas. He allows him a moment to adjust before he begins to thrust his finger in and out, slow and careful, his gaze on Castiel’s face the whole time, green eyes intense with concentration. Slowly but surely, Dean feeds his own slick into Cas’ hole, opens him up with one finger and then two, then three, all thrusting in harder and faster.

Castiel doesn’t hold back his sounds, just moans and keens and tosses his head. Between his legs, his cock is so hard and heavy he doesn’t trust himself to follow Dean’s instruction. He wants to come. His body is begging him to come, singing with sensation. His and Dean’s combined scents saturate the air with need and desperation.

“Please,” Castiel begs, “Please, Dean. My sweet omega –”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean says, with an affectionate kiss to Castiel’s cheek, “Don’t overdo it. I’ve got you. I won’t let you hurt.”

Dean urges Castiel’s thighs further apart and then grips his own cock at the base. He reaches back for more of his slick and rubs it onto his erection. It shines in the dim, yellow light of the hotel room, and Christ, the sight of Dean’s cock makes Castiel hungry. He wiggles impatiently and makes a soft noise. Dean rubs a hand over Castiel’s thigh and says, “Shh. I got you.”

In one, smooth thrust, Dean is inside Castiel. A familiar, fulfilling ache overwhelms him. He tries to grind down further, take more of Dean inside him, but Dean stops him with the gentle touch of his hand and says, “I’m in charge, little alpha. Let me do my job. Let me take care of you.”

Castiel moans.

Dean starts with gradual, shallow thrusts, arms braced on either side of Castiel’s head with his palms pressed into the mattress. Then, he picks up speed, lets his hips jerk faster and harder into Castiel, pounding him back into the mattress. The springs below squeak in protest at the abuse but Castiel wants more. He hears himself begging for Dean to fuck him harder, to use him, to wreck him.

Castiel knows the moment that Dean is close to the brink. His omega’s hips stutter and his thrusts become deeper, more uneven. His breath comes out in short, hot bursts against Castiel’s neck, and sweat breaks out on his forehead.

Castiel cradles the back of Dean’s head with his palm and whispers against his ear, “Come inside me.”

Dean groans. He thrusts four times more before he curls into Castiel’s grip and comes with a loud, deep groan.

Castiel makes to wrap his arms around Dean and cradle his omega to his chest, but Dean doesn’t allow himself even a moment of rest. He pulls out of Castiel and Cas feels empty, so empty – except that he doesn’t have time to think about that before wet, molten heat engulfs Castiel’s cock and he release a broken gasp.

Watching Dean ride him is almost as beautiful as watching Dean fuck him. He can feel the calluses on Dean’s hands where they press against his chest. Dean rolls his hips and rocks back and forth on Castiel’s cock. Like before, he begins with a slow pace, but picks it up, bouncing up and down in Castiel’s lap like he was born for it.

“Dean,” Castiel groans, “ _Dean_. I need to knot you. Let me knot you. Please. Please.”

Dean growls and leans down to capture Castiel’s mouth in another blazing kiss. He says, “Go on and knot me, little alpha.”

Castiel thrusts his hips up to meet the slap down of Dean’s ass, fucks himself into his omega as deep as he can get as his knot begins to swell. It catches at the rim of Dean’s hole, and Dean makes a soft, sweet noise that makes Cas want to wrap Dean up in his arms and never let him go, not at all.

It seems to happen all at once. Castiel’s knot locks him inside his mate’s beautiful body, and his first world-shattering orgasm careens into him like a runaway train. He clutches Dean to chest, but Dean doesn’t slow the roll of his hips, just keeps egging Cas on and urging more come out of his spent cock. Cas is oversensitive. He wants it to stop as much as he wants it to keep going, so he lets Dean decide what he’ll do.

Eventually, Dean collapses against Castiel, his face tucked against Cas’ collarbone.

“Jesus,” Dean breathes, “This is one helluva rut. Good thing I got the ol’ tubes tied or we’d be sitting on another pup here.”

“My alpha nature tells me that that is a very good idea,” Cas says, “but as soon as we have possession of our pups again I’m going to remember why it’s actually a terrible one.”

Dean chuckles against Castiel’s skin, pecks a kiss to the freckle above one nipple. He says, “If I got knocked up again, I’d be doing all the hard work in any case.” He grinds down a little on Cas’ dick, urging the smallest aftershock to quake through Cas’ body.

Castiel makes a noise, though he isn’t sure if it’s a noise of complaint or encouragement. With the tide of rut abated for now, exhaustion settles into the marrow of his bones. His eyelids feel heavy and slide down, but only until he feels Dean poking at his cheek.

“Dude. You can’t fall asleep,” Dean says, “I need to get you hydrated and fed.”

“Merrrhhff.”

“Yeah, I don’t care. I’m not falling asleep with both of us covered in come, either. As soon as we’re unknotted, we’re taking a shower. Cas. Cas, do you hear me?”

“But we smell so nice like this.”

“Gross.”

Cas dozes, but he obediently makes himself wake up when his knot goes down, and lets Dean guide him into the hotel shower. Since they only planned on staying one night, they didn’t bring any of their own shampoo, so Dean uses the tiny hotel-provided shampoo and shower gel to scrub their hair clean of sweat and their bodies of come and slick.

Together, they settle onto the bed that they didn’t just defile. Cas allows Dean to force glasses of water on him, as well as two of the granola bars and a package of Star Wars fruit snacks that they packed for the pups. There’s something nice about being cherished and cared for, without having to worry about one’s own need because their mate is already taking care of them.

Castiel falls asleep with his head snuggled into Dean’s bare chest, and Dean’s thick fingers smoothing through his shower-wet hair.

**X**

Dean and Castiel end up paying for three more days at the hotel, while Charlie and Jo take the pups back up to Buena Vista for an extended auntie visit. Castiel doesn’t expect the welcome they receive, however, when they walk into Charlie and Jo’s home later that week.

“DADDIES!” Jack shrieks.

All three of the pups pounce onto their fathers. Jack launches into a speech about how many Christmas movies that Dean and Castiel have missed, while Mary asks what exactly they were doing, and Ben is content to nuzzle into Castiel’s side and scent his alpha father.

“Okay, okay,” Dean says, “Give your old dads a break, guys. We’ll watch something tonight. How about Elf? Have you guys watched that one already?”

Multiple exclamations from all three pups prevent their actual words from behind heard, but based upon their tones and the happy scents they’re giving off, Castiel figures that Dean’s suggestion is a success.

Cas casts a sidelong glance at his omega. Perhaps sensing Castiel’s eyes on him, Dean turns and lifts his brows.

“What?” he asks.

“Nothing,” Castiel says, “I just love you.”

The apples of Dean’s cheeks go pink. He rubs the back of his neck and says, “Damn, Cas. The things you say. I love you too, asshole.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is commission -- if you are interested in a commission as well please contact me at my Supernatural tumblr, scarlettofletters.tumblr.com.


End file.
